


Heavy Is the Head

by LuthienLuinwe



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Dick Grayson is Batman, Gen, Past Rape/Non-con, Torture Mentions, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-07 01:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15898251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuthienLuinwe/pseuds/LuthienLuinwe
Summary: "Uneasy is the head that wears a crown."Dick is struggling during the aftermath of Arkham Knight.





	Heavy Is the Head

**“Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose**

**To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude,**

**And in the calmest and most stillest night,**

**With all appliances and means to boot,**

**Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!**

**Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”**

Gotham was hell. Dick thought he had understood that once. No other city attracted crimes, horrific, soul-shattering crimes, the way she did. Things had seemed so black and white when he was Robin all those years ago. There was good, and there was evil. 

It was only after Jason that he started to see things in shades of gray.

Jason who had always been a rebel, who had always seen things through his own lense. People weren’t good or evil for Jason. They were bad or outright evil. (“We all have evil in us, Goldie. Just some of us know better than to tap into it, is all). Life had dealt Jason a shitty hand. And just when things had started to get better, life had been ripped out from under him.

Dick had looked for him, even long after Bruce had stopped. Dick wasn’t going to give up on the kid (he wasn’t a kid, not after everything he’d gone through, not a kid anymore).

He never would have imagined Jason would be in Joker’s favorite haunt.

He never would have dreamed that Jason would have been capable of tapping into his own, personal evil and holding Gotham at her throat.

Gotham was hell.

Gotham was hell, and Jason Todd’s mind must have been right there next to it.

Red Hood was allowed to operate only because the Bat allowed it. 

Had Bruce still been around, it never would have happened. 

Being Batman was more difficult than Dick had ever given Bruce for. Everywhere he looked someone was out to get him. Every face was a potential enemy, every night a nightmare. ("Chill," Tim had told him when he came back from his honeymoon with Barbara. "You've been fighting crime for years").

It was true. But Nightwing was different.

He never wanted to be the Bat.

The news spread across the screen before him, and the name was just a flash before it disappeared. Red Hood Strikes Again.

Great.

Even more to deal with.

("You can stay in Gotham, but you lay low, do you hear me?")

He threw the cowl down and sat in front of the Batcomputer. Alfred would be down before long, and the last thing he needed was to look upset. He needed a few minutes to decompress.

Joker was gone.

Scarecrow was locked up tight.

Bludhaven was in shambles, but that wasn't his problem anymore.

(It would always be his problem, though, wouldn't it?)

_ You won't be able to shake someone's hand without marking them for death. _

_ " _ Hey," a voice greeted, and Dick jumped and spun around in his chair. He was getting sloppy, and it would get him killed one of those days. He was losing his grip. It would get the others killed one day too.

He could still remember the last fight he'd had with Bruce ringing clear in his head. ("You're 28, Dick. When are you going to grow up?")

Dick watched as Jason hit the catch on his helmet before removing it, setting it on the table beside Dick. "You look like hell," Jason commented and unloaded his guns before setting them next to the helmet on the desk.

He could still feel Penguin's gun pressed up against his temple.  _ One more step, and you'll see the contents of the boy's head. _

(Hey Oz, you ever hear of the Flying Graysons?)

"You try doing this one day," Dick muttered in response. He ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore his reflection staring back at him from the sleeping computer monitor. Months had aged him more than the past several years. Dark circles had formed under his eyes, and he could have sworn he was already going gray.

How had Bruce ever lived like that?

_ Do you like being alone, Dick? _

"Why were you back in Gotham anyway?" Jason pulled a chair up beside Dick, and Dick shut his eyes tightly, not wanting to remember.  _ That's right, baby.  _ "You can't keep doing this, you know," Jason sighed, and Dick shot him a death glare.

"Says the man who spent five years planning revenge on Bruce," he snapped, immediately regretting it. "That was low."

"Didn't think you had it in ya," Jason admitted and pulled a knee to his chest, and God, Dick wished he had a time machine to go back and keep anything bad from ever happening to Jason, to keep the bad things from touching him ever again.

"I saw the news."

"Bastards deserved it."

"Who were they?"

"Friends of Joker's."

Dick saw the hatred in Jason's eyes, could hear the venom dripping in his voice. "Friends who..." he started to ask, but Jason just nodded in response, a jerky motion suggesting Dick had better not finish that question.

"I'm sorry," Dick responded and woke the Batcomputer up. Five in the morning. He needed to be at the station at eight. There was no point in trying to sleep. How many days had he gone now on three hours or less? He didn't want to think about it. "Glad you got them."

"You don't have to lie to me," Jason responded.

"I'm not lying," Dick said, keeping his voice cool and even. Why did Jason always have to assume everything was an attack on him? Dick wasn't Bruce. He never would be. Joker deserved to die, and Bruce had felt  _ guilty  _ about it. Dick would have killed the bastard and not given it a second thought... Wouldn't he?

_ I killed him. _

_ No, I did. _

Would he have killed her if he had the chance?

He wasn't sure.

He liked to think not.

But people weren't good, not inherently.

Maybe he'd believed they were once.

_ Quiet, mi amor. _

"Earth to Dick," Jason waved his hand in front of Dick's eyes, and Dick blinked and turned to face him.

And God, what position was Dick in to be fixated on problems? Jason had been held and tortured for  _ over a year.  _ And Dick? Dick had just had a rough couple of months... Wasn't that it? Just a rough couple of months? That was what Bruce had seemed to think. But Dick hadn't given him the full story.

How could he have given him the full story?

_ What's the matter, Grayson? Afraid of a little girl? _

"I kept looking," Dick said after a long moment of silence. "Even after Bruce gave up. I didn't stop. It was eating me alive, and I..."

"I know," Jason sighed, and Dick made a noise of protest when Jason reached across the computer to lock it. "You're calling in today."

"I can..."

"You can't," Jason shook his head. "Now go get some fucking sleep."

"Can't sleep," Dick reluctantly admitted. What the hell was wrong with him that he was saying that in front of Jason? I just... Had a lot of shit go wrong on me." And wasn't that just so much worse? Jason was the king of issues. Jason deserved to have sleepless nights. Jason deserved to be angry, to be angry at Bruce, at Dick, at the whole damn world.

Dick had gotten everything handed to him.

He didn't deserve to feel any of those things.

So why did he?

And Jason got all of the sympathy.

And what the hell did that leave for perfect little Dick?

Not a damned thing.


End file.
